


Gladiatrix

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bloodplay, F/F, Fight Sex, Forced Orgasm, Girl Penis, Gladiators, Hyenas, Monster Girls, Other, Sword & Sandal, late treat, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23166307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: Veleda was forced to fight in the arena, knowing what fate would befall her if she lost.  Knowing just how the Imperials would enjoy her suffering and humiliation.  Her opponent, likewise is another subjugated warrior--one that is not human.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 35
Collections: Teratophilia Trade 2020





	Gladiatrix

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ba_lailah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ba_lailah/gifts).



The portcullis gate creaked as it rose, almost drowned out by the sound of the crowd.

Veleda inhaled, slow and deep. Gripping the handle of the short sword she’d been given, she walked through. She had to squint as the dimly lit chambers beneath the colosseum gave way to the bright, beating midday sun. Sandals met wood of the bridge crossing the circular moat, then found the stone of the arena floor.

At the side, near a seating of ornately-dressed citizens, someone was orating in a language she did not know. As her vision became accustomed to the day, she glanced at the man, dramatically gesticulating—she strained and thought she heard the name of her homeland, butchered by his tongue. She wondered if one of the women next to him, all accompanied by an effete young male, was the Empress.

Not for the first time that day, she wished she had a throwing spear instead of a sword.

The crowd bayed like animals as the portcullis on the opposite side of the arena raised. Another captive, like her. Similarly, it was dressed skimpily, in a loincloth, strip of cloth around the chest, and scant bits of armor. It was some manner of beastwoman, although the type she could not say. The only indication that it was a female was the strip of cloth across her chest--a male would've lacked any covering there. She was vaguely canine, although bulkier than she’d been led to think wolfmen were. Her coloration was odd, as well—gray-brown with dark spots in its short, coarse pelt.

She knew why they were here—one of the Imperial Slavemasters said as much when dragging her out of the pits. She would fight another rebellious subject of her Imperial Majesty. The winner would return to the chambers to rest, be fed, and ready for another fight. The loser’s humiliation for the amusement of these pathetic Imperials would last far longer.

The thought of laying down her arms, refusing to fight another victim of Imperial subjugation never entered her head. Rumors of the games were well known in her homeland, what would befall combatants who lost. Attempting to work a truce with a woman—a _beast_ who undoubtedly came from the opposite end of the Empire and knew no common tongue was just leaving herself open.

The crowd chanted—what scant she knew of their tongue was that it was an exhortation to fight.

She and the beastwoman obliged.

Reach was an issue as she closed the distance, halting a quarter of the way across. The beastwoman was a head taller than her—and the Imperials considered her people giants. Her limbs were longer. Metal clanged on metal as the beast’s sword met her shield, the impact travelling all the way up her arm.

Veleda was on the back foot, warding off blows. The beastwoman had no finesse, perhaps she was unfamiliar with the weapon as Veleda was, perhaps she was simply unintelligent. But reach and strength made up for the flaws. Veleda was biding her time—against a foe like this she need to wait for an opportunity.

Except she was running out of time. She was aware, as she backed up, she approached the edge of the arena floor, and the moat below. She hadn’t taken a look when she entered, sun blind, but the tales she heard.

She dodged a swing, and lashed out swiftly, nicking the beastwoman’s arm and causing her to reflexively drop the sword. The creature backpedaled as Veleda went on the attack, scoring several more strikes—nothing more than superficial, even without healers but she had the beast on the backfoot.

Until the beast, leapt back, out of Veleda’s reach as she swung, then barreled forward, smashing into Veleda with her shield.

Veleda’s sword went flying. Both she and the beastwoman dove for it, tipping on the edge. They grappled, shoved, kicked at one another on the ground, before the bestwoman swept her arm and knocked the weapon into the pit.

This turned the battle into a fistfight; the beastwoman ridding herself of the shield and then using the fabric around her torso to bandage her wounded arm. Veleda fought her best, but the battle clearly favored the larger beastwoman. With claws and tooth and reach, she was better suited for unarmed combat than a human. Veleda struck, aimed for vital areas, but the beastwoman was equally adept, and had her advantages.

A clawed swipe carved lines in Veleda’s cheek and sent her reeling, a closed fist doubled her over, and then she was lifted up, facing skyward for a brief second, before she was aware she was descending.

She awoke sore, the world spinning around her so badly it took her too long to realize she was held upside-down. Claws scraped at her hips as the beastwoman's clawed fingers hooked her loincloth and shredded it. The cloth that had covered her torso was long gone. When the beastwoman finished disrobing her, Veleda felt a cold, wet snout press against her snatch.

She shuddered as the beast lapped at her snatch the broad, rough tongue running along her length. She squirmed, attempting to wrestle her way out of the beastwoman’s grasp, only to go still when sharp teeth pinched her inner thigh. The pressure steadily increased until blood welled up.

Which the beast lapped up, before returning to Veleda’s snatch. Blood rushing to her aching head, Veleda couldn’t stifle a moan as the creature’s tongue pressed into her, then running the entire length of her slit, then flicked at her clit. She slammed her eyes shut and tried to focus on the pain in her head, her hatred of the Empire, anything but the sensation between her legs, the wetness of both the beast’s drool and herself running down.

Or the sound of her frantic mewls.

Or the sight of the crowd on their feet, the people in the box so haughtily look upon them.

Or the mounting pressure inside her desperate for release.

She screamed loud, blood pounding in her ears, and shuddered hard enough that the beast had to tighten her grip she writhed and shrieked. The crowd erupted in cheers. And then Veleda was unceremoniously dropped to the floor.

An attempt to push herself to her feet ended with the beast’s full weight on her back, pressing her to the arena floor. She was muttering something in her own language. A clawed held her head still while they beast dragged her tongue against the cuts she’d made in Veleda’s cheek.

Claws raked her back as the beastwoman sidled backwards. Veleda looked over her shoulder as the beastwoman fumbled with a loincloth. Veleda gasped. _That_ appendage did not belong on a woman. It pulsed and was erect What manner of creature was this?

The crowd was screaming in approval as the beastwoman lined what had to be a cock up, claws digging into Veleda’s hips hard enough to break skin. The creature’s cock pressed against her, and Veleda braced herself.

In a sick, twisted way was lucky the creature had deigned to rape Veleda with her tongue first, because its cock was large and Veleda was certain she couldn't have taken it if she were not so wet. There was no fanfare or preparation beyond that, as it shoved its entire length inside with a massive thrust, then set a brutal, rapid pace that pressed the warrior into the arena floor.

Veleda clawed at the floor and howled as the beast fucked her into the ground roughly and mercilessly. A clawed hand pulled a fistful of her hair, made her look at the box where she presumed some high officials sat. Her gaze met that of a woman, a rather average-looking Imperial in a purple cloak.

Then her face was shoved back in the dirt, she was pressed against stone by the full weight of the beastwoman, who fucked her relentlessly. Short, coarse fur against her back, the scent of rutting animals, and the sounds of the thing, _laughing_ in her ear. The crowed cheered and the beastwoman huffed and grumbled, teeth digging into Veleda’s shoulder.

It felt like an eternity, feeling the beginnings of that unwelcome tension as the beast fucked her. Eventually the beast withdrew, rolled her onto her back, and Veleda got to look her rapist in the eye. One paw against her throat, the other roughly groping her breast, and of course, the monster woman’s cock in her cunt.

Veleda had to have been damned. Some miserable god must’ve hated her to play such a cruel joke as to have her and the beast woman cum together. At least, that’s how she interpreted the howl from the monster. She spasmed and thrashed and shrieked, and together they drowned out the crowd for a miserable, ecstatic second.

Veleda was limp, draped over the beast-woman’s shoulders as she was paraded around the arena, faceup, entire abused body on display to the crowd’s delight. Eventually, they stopped before the box where the Imperial woman in purple sat. Veleda lifted her head to see the woman hold aloft a hand. It was a closed fist, palm facing downward, thumb outstretched.

The beast was laughing again, the only sound that Veleda could make out as the woman in purple stood still.

The burst of new, raucous cheering from the crowd when the woman turned her wrist, pointing that thumb down managed to somehow sink Veleda’s heart even more. The beast threw her body forward; and as she spun, she caught sight of the moat around the arena, rushing up to meet her.

She landed with a splash in hip-deep water, coldness stinging her wounds as she forced her aching body to stand. Turning her head skyward, she saw some spectators—not the woman in purple, but the common rabble who were closest to the lip of the bit—lean over.

As something snagged her ankle and dragged her. More limbs, long, sinewy fibers ranging from the breadth of a finger to the diameter of her thigh coiled around her feeling, probing, finding places already defiled, and new ones as well. She couldn’t hold in a howl when one limb roughly shoved into her ass, and that allowed a new one to enter her moth.

She was bent skyward and fucked relentlessly by the thing in the bit, noting that one by one, her spectators stopped leaning to stare at her. New metal-on-metal sounds rang above. She was wheeled around, new limbs replacing ones that had spent themselves inside her, filling her body with bitter, cold slime. Sometimes they jostled for position, only to let the first inside to have her--other times multiples of the thinner limbs forced themselves into a hole, twisting and moving independently. She had no idea how long it would last, or if it could get any worse. As the thing continued to fuck her, Veleda closed her eyes. A woman's scream, followed by another splash into the moat.

And above, the games went on.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun hyena fact--female hyena sexual anatomy is almost indistinguishable from the male's to the untrained observer.
> 
> Anyways, this is a late treat, I apologize for the lateness. But once I saw the prompt I had this idea and it would not leave me alone. I hope you enjoy this.


End file.
